Hey, I never said it was a perfect plan.
I reached out a hand and could almost touch her but the river kept swirling me away from her and I didn’t seem to have the strength anymore to fight it.
My legs and arms were growing numb with the cold and I could tell that Darma was having the same problem. She’d been clutching a large rock to keep from being washed further down the river but her face was going slack and her grip was loosening. I wasn’t sure I’d get to her in time.
Finally she screamed,
Frunk this!
in my mind.
Something powerful reached out for me and I slammed suddenly up against the rock which Darma had been hugging.
Let’s do this!
I nodded and fed my power into hers, which was holding us together on that rock. Her power grabbed mine and I gasped as the incredible weight of it flowed over and around us. It felt like lead as it encased us in a thick, seemingly impenetrable bubble. As the bubble closed, the sound of the river died away to a muffled rumble that sounded distant. Warmth started seeping back into our clammy limbs.
Darma allowed her head to drop onto the rock. Long strings of blonde hair obscured her face. “Thank Him. Warmth and relative silence at last,” I heard her mutter.
“Amen, sister,” I replied.
Something on the cliff face high above caught my eye and I had a revelation. Laughing I shook my head at my own stupidity.
Darma looked up. “What?”
I reached a weary arm toward the lights which shone like a beacon on top of the opposite cliff. “Salvation is only a space shift away. Right under my nose and I couldn’t sniff it out to save our lives.”
She followed the direction of my pointing finger and I watched as realization hit. Who better to help you shake off the Prince of Darkness than an angel of the highest choir? A slow grin slid onto her pale face.
“Shall we?” I asked with an answering grin.
“We shall,” she replied.
A second later we were standing on the ground above the Angel City River, looking down at the Serpent standing on the opposite side. I knew we were backlit by the soft light from my father’s house, easily visible. But it no longer mattered. The Serpent’s red, malevolent gaze pierced the mist as it focused on us. We stared the Evil One down, gaining confidence from the dense, rhythmic sound of angel’s wings, which split the night above our heads.
He will not always be there to protect you, my children.
No,
we said almost in unison,
but he’s here right now.
Seraphim James Phelps landed softly behind us, bathing us in the warm glow of his white, angelic magic. We felt the uplifting warmth of his hands as he moved between us and placed a hand on each of our shoulders, frowning down at his nemesis on the rocks below. When he opened his mouth to speak the sounds of the river far below us vanished under the power of his voice. An illuminating beam of light shot from him to light the lone figure below. “Be gone from this place, purveyor of evil. This is consecrated ground and you and your minions are proscribed from entering it. You have no poisonous power here.”
The Devil raised his countenance to us and, under the angelic light surrounding him, his horrendous face was fully revealed. Three sets of fire-filled eyes viewed us with dark intent. Wide nostrils sat flat upon a face covered in scales, over a mouth that was nearly as wide as the scaly face. When he opened his mouth to speak flames erupted from it and several rows of razor sharp black teeth were visible beyond the parched lips. Horns curved from the sides of his head, the deadly looking points sitting close to the sides of his head, just above pointed ears.
His hands were claws and his feet were cloven hooves. He was every child’s nightmare in physical form. For the first time in our experience he opened his horrific mouth and spoke outside our minds. The voice was rusty with disuse and jagged enough to tear across our nerves.
“The veil drops, Seraphim James. Your world dies. Soon you will lose your hold on this world entirely. And I and mine will rule.”
Our father smiled a beatific smile. Its glow was like acid to the form below but the Devil stood firm against it. “Your kind of evil will never again rule this world, Serpent. Unfortunately for mankind, you will always dance on the fringes, tainting its goodness with your foul stench. But you’ll never be able to entirely snuff out its goodness. Not as long as
we
have breath in our bodies.”
Our father pulled us close, up under his softly beating wings and the warm glow of power surged from him, pulling our power with it to stab at the clogging veil around us and suffuse the monster on the ground below us.
For just a moment in time the veil flinched away from that place and the power tore through it to wrap around the suddenly writhing figure across the river. He fell to his knees in the rocky soil, the sand around him glistening red with his blood.
He turned bleeding eyes up to us at the last and fire spewed from his grimacing mouth.
You cannot fight the veil, Seraphim James. It consumes all light and kills all who embrace it. Your kind will wither and die among the bones of your precious human race. And I will dance upon your fallen bodies as I enter this world for the last time. I will rule all.
He writhed one last time on the ground, looking to me like he was a heartbeat away from death. But I knew that was not possible. My father’s voice met his across the space and the Serpent flinched.
Nay, Swine. Your veil falters and will die. Your conduits even now fight their fate.
We shall see, light one.
I blinked as the Serpent disappeared and my father sighed. His light died and he shivered, telling me better than words how little his brave words had meant. I looked up at him. He had a small cut on his lip, with blood running from it. “Rough day?”
I reached up and healed it without thinking.
He nodded touching the spot I’d just healed with his finger. “Thank you, daughter.”
“Darma and I are conduits.”
He was staring at the spot across the river where the Evil One had been standing but he jerked as if stung. His beautiful blue eyes swung to me. “Both of you?”
We nodded.
He sighed, lifting his wrist to show us his own mark.
Tears flooded Darma’s eyes. “But you’re an angel of the highest choir. How is that possible?”
Our father shrugged. “My soul was tainted when I fell. Though
He
has forgiven me and taken me back, the taint will always ride my soul. The Serpent needs only the slightest taint to gain a foothold.”
We all stood in silence for a moment, staring across the river. Then Darma, most likely in an attempt to lighten the mood, swiped angrily at her tears and gave me a pointed look. “Well that explains how he got Astra. But what about me?”
“Hey!” I objected, grinning.
My father looked at her in shock, his blue eyes wide. But then he apparently got the joke and chuckled, shaking his blond head. “Come. Let’s go inside. The night grows cold.”
As if to prove his point Darma’s teeth clanked together. “Wait until I tell you about Astra’s bright idea to get away from him, Father. She nearly killed us.”
He placed an arm around each of our shoulders and we started toward the house. I reached around him and pinched Darma hard on the ass.
She jumped in a very satisfying way. “Ow!”
I laid my head against his warm, comforting shoulder. “Thanks for coming to our rescue.”
He leaned down to kiss the top of my soggy, debris-infused head. “My pleasure. But where is your guardian?”
I jerked in surprise. It hadn’t even occurred to me to call Flick. If it had been Myra I’d have called her in a heartbeat. “I don’t know. I didn’t call him.”
My father opened the door for us and we all walked into the softly lit fortress. Warmth permeated us as we entered and Darma’s shivering lessened. He looked down at me, concern written all over his face. “I’m sure it hasn’t been easy for you changing guardians, Astra. But you need to trust him.”
I shrugged, suddenly realizing my father had quickly discerned something that even I hadn’t figured out yet. I didn’t trust Flick. I had been treating him more like a butt boy than a guardian, dragging him around with me to clean up my messes. But I wasn’t ready to admit that to my father. I wasn’t sure how much of an influence he’d been in the decision to change out my guardian. “He’s been really sick. I just got used to doing without him.”
My father nodded. “The Devil’s Plague is devastating our ranks. I’ve lost fifty percent of my army.”
“Yikes!” I looked at my sister and saw that she was completely dry. Apparently she’d decided to embrace the finer points of her power. “Can they be healed?” Her instincts always went right to healing.
Our father shook his head, motioning with a hand for us to precede him into the fortress’s huge kitchen. “There is no cure. It just has to run its course. Although,” he glanced at me, “Flick’s plague resolved itself fairly quickly, so maybe this isn’t that potent a strain.”
I pulled my power forward too as we headed for the kitchen and dried my own clothing. It felt good to be warm again.
Darma and I sat down at the long, heavy wooden table in the center of the huge space and our father programmed hot, black coffee into the drink valet. Then he ordered up some eggs and processed meat product for us and handed the plates around.
Having used up nearly all our stores of energy just trying to stay alive and warm in the river, Darma and I ate ravenously. Our father sat back in his chair and sipped his coffee thoughtfully, watching us eat.
Finally Darma pushed her plate back and wiped her mouth. She’d apparently been thinking while she ate. “It’s a pretty strange coincidence that half of the celestial army is down with Devil’s Plague during the time when you need them to help you battle the veil and its affects.”
Father nodded. “We have thought about that, yes.”
I shoveled the last bite of food into my mouth and pushed my plate away. I’d been so busy dealing with the minutia of the problem that I hadn’t seen the larger picture. Leave it to Darma to cut through the murk to clear sky above. I nodded. “She’s right, Father, it has to be connected somehow.”
“When was the last time you saw an outbreak of the plague?”
Our father sipped the coffee, his fine, blond brows knitting together in thought over the warm mug. Setting it down he wrapped his elegant hands around the mug as if seeking warmth. “It would have been…” his eyes widened, “about thirty years ago.”
Darma nodded. “The great wars.”
“It was a much smaller outbreak…”
I felt myself growing excited. “And only a small part of the veil descended during those wars. Father it makes perfect sense. The plague and the veil are somehow related.”
“Which means,” Darma interjected with a frown, “that if we defeat one we defeat the other.”
I nodded. “Or that the means for defeating one will lead us to the means to defeating the other.”
Seraphim James’ wings flickered with tension and his beatific face clouded. “Which means we’re all doomed.” He looked up. “There is no cure for Devil’s Plague.”
I grinned. “None that is known, no. But what if there is something?”
He and Darma turned hopeful faces in my direction. “What are you thinking, daughter?”
“I’m thinking about Flick! He kicked off the plague faster than usual. You said so yourself.”
My father’s face brightened. “Of course!”
Darma stood. “He must have something in his system that helped him kick it. We need to get him into the lab.”
I stood up too. “Father, will you take us to him?”
Darma nodded. “Yes, I need to see him right away. Where is he?”
Father reached a hand toward us both and I grinned. Through my guardian-protected bond I knew Flick’s current location at any given time. All I had to do was send my mind searching to find him. And I knew too how the news was going to be greeted by my earth-bound sibling.
“In his cloud I presume.”
Darma’s face paled instantly and her mouth opened to object, just as our father touched her shoulder.
And we were off.
* * * * *
Flick sat at a small white table with a full plate of food in front of him. He had the fork halfway to his mouth when we landed beside the table. His brown eyes widened but the fork continued an unconcerned arc toward his open mouth.
I gave him a little finger wave and he frowned. When he had swallowed, he picked up a clear glass filled with cool water and looked up at me. “This can’t be good.”
I grinned. “Hey Flick. We need your help to save the world.”
The water apparently went down the wrong pipe. He choked, spluttered and spewed it across the table. Disgusted, he waved a hand and the table disappeared. He stood up, wiped his chin with the back of his hand and gave my father a small bow.
“Seraphim James.”
My father smiled and placed a hand on Flick’s shoulder. “His Blessings, Flick.”
Flick turned to Darma. He cocked his head at her, then glanced at me with a raised eyebrow. “She okay?”
I looked at her for the first time since landing on the cloud. Darma’s face was as white as anything in the cloud and her eyes were wide and unblinking. She stood rigid and unmoving, her arms straight down at her sides and her feet perfectly aligned, like a wooden soldier’s. The only thing moving was her mouth, which looked like it was grasping for words that wouldn’t come.
My father touched her shoulder and she jumped, giving a little cry. Flick jumped too.
I giggled and he glared at me.
“Daughter? Darma, dear are you all right?” Father bent over her in concern.
Slowly her blonde head turned and she focused glazed, blue eyes on him. Then she blinked once, twice and her mouth found a word. It was creaky but whole, “Wow.”
Father looked at me and I shrugged.
Flick lifted a hand toward Darma and it suddenly held a glass of water like the one he’d spewed on us a moment earlier. “Would you like a drink, Darma?”
She turned slowly toward Flick and reached for the glass. Her movements were stiff and robotic. She took the glass, sipped and handed it back to him. Flick took the glass and it disappeared.